Cat Scratch Disease

An unsheathed cat’s claw is dangerous. With ears flattened, and pupils large, the claw sinks into receptive flesh. The movements are fast, lightning quick. Before you know it you are marked. The intention, as well as the result, is cruel.

The sinking of a cat’s claw into the soft inner secret skin on my arm brings forth a sound like ‘o-ho!’

Then there’s a smile. A warmth that spreads. She could not have possibly have meant you ill. But she did.

A cats scratch brings a disease that poisons from within; a secret infection that leaves you panting. I see the arc shape of her swipe and see the blood slowly rise to the surface, and the hidden microbes that live under her nail swell together in release. I know then that I am marked, I will walk with her disease. I carry her in the swoosh of my pulsing blood.

But I am ok with that.

I know I am the walking dead. I know she owns me now. She has written her name on my flesh and scratched her infection on the inside of my eyelids. Without knowledge or permission I have granted her her wish, and given my body to the flush of disease and the sweetness of contagion.